The black curtains covering the front of Todd Pletcher's barn on the backstretch at Churchill Downs were lowered all at once, as if on cue.
At that same moment, half a mile north as the crow flies, the Kentucky Derby-winning trainer and Mike Repole, owner of Uncle Mo, sat glumly behind a table in a windowless room just off the paddock.
''It's very, very, very, very, very disappointing,'' Pletcher began.
''Honestly, I've never had a horse as good as Uncle Mo,'' he added. ''To not make it here is a big letdown. I take it as a personal failure.''
The scene was eerily familiar. Only the names and ailments had changed.
Uncle Mo, the juvenile champion and second favorite, was laid low by a bad stomach less than 36 hours before Saturday's race. A year ago, Pletcher called a news conference six days out to announce he was pulling Eskendereya, the best horse in the field, because of what turned out to be a career-ending leg injury. The year before that, heavily favored colt I Want Revenge was scratched by Jeff Mullins the morning of the race because of a bum ankle.
Back at the barns Friday morning, three-time Derby winner Bob Baffert stuck his hands deep inside the pockets of his vest. Bad news traveled fast.
''Charlie Whittingham used to say the horses are like strawberries; they can go bad overnight,'' Baffert said, referring to the late dean of the training fraternity.
''The worst is when you get to the barn in the morning and someone says, 'Come look at this.' So when people say how come there's so little woofing in your sport,'' he added, ''I say that's because we don't want to jinx ourselves.''
Another 100 yards up the way, two-time Derby winner Nick Zito was already taking precautions. Alongside him was close pal and owner Robert LaPenta. In a stall off to their left rested Dialed In, the dark bay colt and morning-line favorite.
Zito looked back over his shoulder, then leaned over a fence railing into the sunlight and kept knocking on every piece of wood within reach. LaPenta followed suit.
''Failure is the norm,'' LaPenta said.
''You're explaining failure 90 percent of the time,'' Zito paused, reaching over to tap the wood sign affixed to the wall of his barn. ''It shows how tough our business is, and how unfortunate it is, too.
''We all would have liked to see him run. It's devastating.''
It can be less devastating, if like Pletcher, you bring multiple horses to the race. Last year, a day after pulling Eskendereya, he ruled out a horse named Rule. Two days after that, he withdrew yet another entry, Interactif.
For all that, Pletcher still sent four horses to the starting gate and snapped his 0-for-24 streak at the Derby with Super Saver. Repole no doubt was hoping that his trainer had some mojo left.
''As bad as I want to win this race in my life,'' said the 42-year-old owner, who made his fortune selling his company, Vitaminwater, to Coca-Cola for $4 billion, ''I trust this guy more than anyone else in my life.
''We're going to be around for a while. I got 25 2-year-olds and he can take as many as he wants. I have 100 friends and family here. And at the end of the day,'' he added, ''I still got someone else in the race.''
With that, Repole punctured the somber mood by taking off a ballcap with ''Uncle Mo'' stitched across the front and replacing it with another reading ''Stay Thirsty'' over the bill.
''I always wondered why someone gave me two Derby horses in the same year,'' he said. ''I think I just found out why.''
It's not always that easy, to be sure. LaPenta, who's been in the racket since throwing in with Louisville basketball coach Rick Pitino in 1998, could provide chapter and verse about that.
''I have a shirt from every Derby, every Preakness, every Belmont with all of the horses listed. Eighty percent of the horses that run in the Derby, you may never see again,'' LaPenta said. ''The stress of getting to the Derby and the stress of that race, when they aren't built to run a mile-and-a-quarter, it knocks them out. They're done.''
To illustrate the point, LaPenta and Zito start alternating sentences in tales of horses whose Derby chances were compromised during the race by a thrown shoe, or short-circuited by a fluke accident even before they reached the track. Most memorably, War Pass never raced again after the plane carrying the juvenile champion bounced on a landing strip in New York, opening a wound in the horse's neck that required 18 staples to close.
''Of the 35,000 (horses) bred in one year, 20 go into the starting gate,'' LaPenta said. ''That's why it's a great sport, though. The highest highs. What you've got to try and do is modulate your emotions, because you kind of have to expect you are not going to be successful.''
He paused long enough to tap the wooden railing one final time.
''We don't know what's going to happen tomorrow,'' he aid. ''Let's hope all of us come out healthy.''
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Jim Litke is a national sports columnist for The Associated Press. Write to him at jlitke(at)ap.org
